


eternal/immortal

by pumpkinpaperweight



Category: The School for Good and Evil - Soman Chainani
Genre: Gen, demon! hester, elven queen! sophie, immortal! beatrix, shapeshifter! dot, vampire! agatha, white witch! anadil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-06 01:55:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20283475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpkinpaperweight/pseuds/pumpkinpaperweight
Summary: “Mortal?”“I would bet my entire life savings on no.”--an unfinished draft of my mythical creatures au from tumblr! I don't think I'll ever continue this but it was a lot of fun to play with (I made some aesthetics and fake texts and stuff for it)(notes about it at the end!)





	eternal/immortal

“This sucks.” Says Dot solemnly.

Anadil grunts, holding her cling film-wrapped hand gingerly out in front of her. She hadn’t expected to be spending her birthday in A&E, but since her other co-worker/reluctant friend is a demon, she probably should have expected some over-zealous candle activity.

They’d forced Hester to stay at the shop, because they both knew full well that taking her to the slow, sometimes chaotic hospital would not end well. Her patience was basically zero.

“Why’s it so _busy?” _whines Dot.

A small child throws up noisily behind them.

The receptionist who’d seen them earlier comes clacking over, and Anadil prays that she can just see a doctor and go home, because even though it’s kind of scorched on the top, that cake had looked _really _good, and she’s determined to salvage some of her birthday, at the very least.

“Ah… we have a doctor free for you, ma’am.”

“Oh- good.” Dot leaps to her feet, towing Anadil with her. “Where do we need to go?”

The look on receptionist’s face makes Anadil stop, though.

“Erm… that’s good, right?” she checks. The receptionist nods quickly.

“Oh, of course- you’ve got Doctor Kaenthai, she’s our best. She’s just a little… eccentric.”

Anadil has a sudden vision of dead pigeons being hacked up and put on her feet.

“…oh?”

“She’s very good, she’s just a bit… old fashioned. Sometimes people are taken aback… oh, it’s nothing. Just thought I’d warn you. She’s very popular with children. This way, this way…!”

Anadil and Dot trail behind her, suddenly less enthusiastic.

“What kind of old-fashioned?” peeps Dot nervously to Anadil as the receptionist knocks on the door of one of the consulting rooms.

Anadil doesn’t answer, because the receptionist is showing them in-

“Ah.” Whispers Dot as the Doctor stands up to greet them and exchanges pleasantries briefly with the receptionist before she retreats.

“Ah.” Agrees Anadil.

“Mortal?”

“I would bet my entire life savings on _no.” _

* * *

Dr Kaenthai is tall, even taller than Anadil, and she’s pale- too pale. Her eyes are dark and her gaze is steady, and as she peers closely at Anadil’s hand, Anadil observes her severe, practical haircut, and mismatched shoes- one some sort of running shoe, and the other a baseball boot.

“Nice shoes.” Says Dot before Anadil can stop her.

Their doctor doesn’t even look up, just nods solemnly.

“I thank you. I enjoy them too.”

Dot smiles, but she looks slightly bewildered. Anadil is, too. If she’s an immortal, as she suspects, she’s unlike any other immortal she’s ever seen before. Most immortals try their hardest to blend in, sometimes even going too far. This woman isn’t even trying. There’s an antique fountain pen on the desk, and the computer has about twenty random tabs open, and the screen display is upside down. One of the searches has _stop _typed at the end of the search, like a telegram.

It’s almost as if it’s some sort of elaborate joke. It wouldn’t be surprising, but Anadil, eyeing the Victorian greatcoat hanging on the back of the door, doesn’t think that anyone’s dedication goes quite _that _far-

She jumps as she realises Dr Kaenthai is slathering some sort of gel on her hand.

“Ouch- um, what’s that?” she asks quickly, desperately hoping it’s something normal and not horrifying, like whale saliva or something-

The other woman blinks steadily at her.

“There is no need for concern. It is lidocaine, an anaesthetic, with aloe vera gel. It is very advantageous. I like it very much. It is probably all you will need, the burn is not severe. I shall cover it, and as long as you are careful with it, it should heal.”

Anadil, who is honestly relieved she’s not being bled or prayed over, nods quickly.

“That’s… fine.”

“I am glad you think so. I shall give you some more of this nice gel, allow me to write a note to the good people in the pharmacy-“

Anadil eyes the copperplate, not at all messy, handwriting being scratched onto the page.

“If I may be so prying, may I ask how you injured your hand?”

Anadil opens her mouth, thinks about it, and shuts it again. If this woman _isn’t _like them, (though she’s almost sure she is) Anadil will look crazy to her.

“I… burned it. On the coffee machine in the café I work at.” And, as a test; “It’s opposite the harbour.”

“I know it.” Says the doctor mildly.

“…you do?”

“Yes, the one with the sage and mint outside.”

She can see through the wards. She _is _immortal. Anadil knew it-!

“I also know that you’re lying about it, because that is not a scald.”

“Busted.” Whispers Dot. Anadil kicks her.

“Erm… Sorry. Yeah, I-”

“Wanted to check if I was going to believe you or not?”

The faintly bemused look in her eye is gone, and Anadil is slightly unsettled.

“I… suppose.”

“Mm. Suppose I would believe anything you told me- what actually happened to your hand?”

“Erm… a friend. Got a bit overzealous with candles.”

“I see. Never mind, it will heal well. Take this to the pharmacy, won’t you? I shall come with you, I need to pick up another patient.”

And that’s all she says on the matter. Disappointed that she hadn’t let more slip, Anadil and Dot let her bind Anadil’s hand and follow her back to the waiting room, where a little girl tearfully clutching her stomach is sat mournfully on a chair, little legs dangling pathetically. When Dr Kaenthai approaches her, though, her face turns from misery to bewilderment, staring at her mismatched shoes and choppy haircut.

“Why are you wearing two different shoes?” she asks faintly.

“Why not?” says Dr Kaenthai. “I like both shoes, so I shall wear both.”

A woman, presumably the girl’s mother, looks slightly bemused, but the little girl looks amazed.

“Can you do that?”

“Of course. Would you like to come with me? You can introduce me to your friend, too.”

She gestures to the scruffy old stuffed rabbit clutched tightly in the girl’s fist. The girl’s face brightens a little, and she hops off the chair and shuffles off with her mother and the doctor.

“She,” says Dot, watching her go. “Is _definitely _immortal, at the very least.”

An old woman sat nearby gives them a bewildered look.

* * *

“I didn’t burn off your hand, did I?” says Hester when they get back. She’s sat on one of the tables, bullying Dot’s cat, Primrose (or as Anadil and Hester called it, Lumpy) by throwing bits of melted candle wax at her, with devastating accuracy.

“No. Thank you for your concern. I think my doctor was immortal.”

“Did he look that old?”

“No, she looked about 25, talked like she was 125, and the others think she’s odd. And she can see the café.”

Hester frowns thoughtfully.

“Not just a witch, like you two? They make good healers.”

“I don’t think so. She does weird stuff. She has a super old coat, she can’t use a computer, and writes in _copperplate. _Who the hell even writes in copperplate?”

“Victorians?”

“If she’s Victorian, she’s the oldest immortal I’ve ever met.” Chirps Dot. “Beatrix was only born in 1949, right?”

“Right. I wonder if she knows her.”

* * *

She doesn’t.

“Never heard of a Dr Kaenthai.” Says Beatrix as she comes in for her Lumpy’s Lucky Latte the next morning. Anadil had named the drinks, drawn the cat, and promptly put a permanent ink spell on the board to stop Dot changing it. Lumpy’s Lucky Latte, as well as being popular, was infused with one of Anadil’s potions- it wasn’t for big things, and it wasn’t a very powerful spell, but if people wanted to find an extra coin in their pockets or get to pet a couple of dogs or catch the next bus, it was their drink.

“I know everyone around here. No one like that. You don’t think-”

The bell dings, and Dot’s eyebrows shoot up.

“You can ask her now. She’s here. With-”

“Oh my god, Sophie again.” Groans Hester.

“Yes, lovely to see you too, darling.”

Formally known as Queen Sophia Regina Violetta of the Woodland Realm, informally known as _oh my god, Sophie again,_ the Elven Queen was a college acquaintance of Anadil’s, famous for her wild parties and apparently never going to classes. Dot had suspected she was definitely _not _human, Anadil had bullied it out of her, and Sophie, for all her airs and graces, was the first, and most faithful, customer to their little supernatural-serving café.

She was also utterly insufferable.

“I’ll have my usual.” Sophie announces as she swoops over to the counter, today wreathed in autumn leaves and a huge fur cloak. “This is Aggie, she’s-“

“A doctor at the local hospital, I know.” Grunts Anadil.

Sophie blinks.

“She’s… _what?”_

She wheels back towards where presumably “Aggie” is stood, but her huge collar is obscuring almost all of Anadil’s view.

“That’s _actually _your re-integration into the mortal world? I thought you were _joking!_ Getting _puked _on? People bl_\- _oh, you don’t get it from _there… _do you?”

“Of course I don’t.” snaps the doctor, sounding markedly less measured than yesterday. “I would never do that, it’s a breach of my-”

“Your Hippocratic Oath, yes, darling, I know- you know, most doctors nowadays don’t worry about it as much as you do.”

“How neglectful.”

Sophie sighs deeply.

“How do you even know how to use everything- actually, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. What do you want to drink?”

There is a very long pause.

“… why do you have so many types of coffee?”

“Oh, just get her a black coffee, she hasn’t been to a café since she woke up-” grumbles Sophie, slapping some money down on the counter.

“Since she woke up?” Beatrix peers with interest over Sophie’s shoulder. “Are you immortal, Doc? What’s your name? I’ve never seen you before.”

Sophie shifts a little, and Dr Kaenthai is revealed to Anadil- today dressed head to toe in black, including the greatcoat Anadil had seen yesterday, and a broad-brimmed black hat that shadows most of her face.

She peers at Beatrix, a little bewildered.

“I suppose I am eternal, yes, but I do not think immortal is the term used…?”

She glances a little uncertainly at Sophie, who looks exhausted.

“_Agatha. _I took all this time trying to get you to understand why not wearing gloves in public isn’t rude anymore, and you don’t know the word for _vampire?”_

Dot breaks the glass she’s holding. Lumpy’s tail poofs up.

Everyone’s head swivels to look at Agatha’s neck, which is mostly covered by the collar of her dark coat- but Anadil can still see the faint circular scars on her neck.

Agatha looks rather miffed.

“I have a great many things in my head, forgive me for not remembering them all right at this second. Mistress Evanora- may I call you Anadil?”

“Uh… yeah, sure.”

“Anadil, do you have any animal blood?”

There is a short pause.

“Good taste.” Says Hester from the coffee machine. “Pig or cow?”

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Anadil ends up seeing rather a lot of Agatha.

At first, it was under the pretence of checking on her hand, but by the time it was completely healed and they both knew it, it became fairly obvious she was just coming to chat.

And boy, could she chat.

Anadil supposed she had a lot of stories to tell, having been born in 1720 (Beatrix’s eyes had nearly fallen out her head), but it was frustratingly hard to tell the difference between when she was telling the truth… and when she was messing with them.

Apparently, being nearly 300 gives you time to perfect your poker face. Suddenly, the bizarre scene at the hospital made a lot more sense.

(“I’m never playing cards with her.” Dot had announced as Agatha regaled Hester with a story of an intense night-time fencing match over a gentleman’s honour with a completely earnest face.)

She’d told them she was a pirate (doubtful) and had befriended “sea-dwellers” (maybe? They hadn’t been able to get out of her what she thought they were), had duelled gentlemen over their wives (more likely, considering the way she’d so easily won over Beatrix), had been a companion to Queen Victoria in her later years, even claiming she’d had her portrait done (Anadil and Hester had refused to believe that one), that she’d bootlegged in the 1920s (like hell she had) and that she’d tried to nap through World War Two and had overshot, being woken up by the millennium celebrations (yeah, sounded about right, considering she had no knowledge from about 1950 to 2000).

“Well, that’s what she told me.” Sophie sighs, as Anadil demands to have it all verified.

So they just sort of go with it, as you do with your grandparents or random old ladies on the bus. Anadil supposes she kind of is an old lady, except no old lady is quite that old, nor swears quite as much.

“Can’t use a computer, but swears like she was born with the rest of us.” Sighs Dot as Agatha attempts to pick up the shards of her third coffee broken cup of this week.

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to reveal towards the end that all of agatha's stories are actually very much legitimate! tedros doesn't get to make an appearance bc I didn't get that far, but he was one of the "sea dwellers" that agatha befriended (he's a siren, he gets fished out of the sea and they end up doing an elaborate heist thing to get him out of the aquarium)


End file.
